Subscribe and get unlimited access to our online magazine archive.

With a touch, the door echoes her sigh,
And the scent of romance dances by
From the small space reserved,
Where her dreams are preserved,
Tucked between last night’s roast and the pie.
— Carrie Clickard, Gainesville, Michigan

She hummed to herself the prom ballad.
Her wish to preserve it was valid.
But her piece of the past
Wasn’t destined to last;
Her grandma mixed it in the salad.
— Patrick McKeon, Pennington, New Jersey

The prom was all right, I suppose.
For dinner he took me to Joe’s.
This Patty McDougal
Was way beyond frugal.
For dessert he suggested my rose.
— Andrew Janik, Hadley, New York

The evening has come to a close.
It’s here I am saving my rose
And thinking of Hughes
With humongous shoes—
Oh, let there be ice for my toes!
— Georgia Suprenant, St. Anne, Illinois

The gala was really quite splendid!
But now that the evening has ended,
I’ll save the corsage,
To be an homage,
For I hope he’ll become my intended!
— Karen Mueller, Oak Harbor, Washington

After dancing all through the night,
She’s reminded in limited light,
Though her tootsies are weary,
Her date was a dearie,
His choice of a flower just right!
— Larry Mann, Danville, Virginia

She stores her corsage from prom night
And knows one day at its sight,
She will reminisce
The night’s front porch kiss,
Cut short when dad turned on the light!
— Angie Gyetvai, Oldcastle, Ontario, Canada

To remember this night’s celebration,
I’ll hold onto this lovely carnation.
And hope it will last
As a memory past
With the help of some refrigeration.
— Steve Pavelich, Grand Blanc, Michigan

The night at the prom was pure bliss,
Including the thrill of first kiss.
The gardenia shall wilt.
The boyfriend will jilt.
But right now “oh the joy” for this miss.
— Sally Havens, Dublin, Ohio

Become a Saturday Evening Post member and enjoy unlimited access.Subscribe now